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And Life Goes On...
Friday, December 13th, 2019 06:16 pmThe Impertinent Daughter is graduating from Texas State tomorrow. She's graduating with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Studio Art, and she's graduating summa cum laude. And that's with taking not just studio classes, she took hard academic classes as well. English Lit, geology, political science, algebra.... and she kept her grades up, despite having to keep the family going after her papa started treatment for anal and liver cancer, and her mother nearly dying of pneumonia.
She's a wonder, y'all, and I am so proud of her.
And I wish like anything that the Husbandly One could be here to see her graduate. That was his goal on entering hospice. He knew he was dying, but he wanted to live long enough to see his daughter graduate from college. He tried so hard to live.
I hate that my husband's last rational words to me were, "I can't breathe!" I hate that being in hospice and having a DNR meant I couldn't call 911, and that I was alone with him when this happened. And that the closest hospice nurse to us was an almost two hour drive away from us.
It's been thirty three days since the Husbandly One died. Thirty three days since I lost the person I tell everything to first. Thirty three days of waking up without him in the bed with me, and having to remember all over again that he's gone.
There are times when it's so hard, I almost can't breathe. When the Impertinent One had gone on to the Texas State website to make sure they printed her name correctly, and discovered that she was graduating summa cum laude, she screamed, I screamed, we squeed and wibbled, and I told her how proud of her I am. Then I turned to say something to THO... and remembered. Oh... that's right. He's gone.
I miss him so very, very much.
She's a wonder, y'all, and I am so proud of her.
And I wish like anything that the Husbandly One could be here to see her graduate. That was his goal on entering hospice. He knew he was dying, but he wanted to live long enough to see his daughter graduate from college. He tried so hard to live.
I hate that my husband's last rational words to me were, "I can't breathe!" I hate that being in hospice and having a DNR meant I couldn't call 911, and that I was alone with him when this happened. And that the closest hospice nurse to us was an almost two hour drive away from us.
It's been thirty three days since the Husbandly One died. Thirty three days since I lost the person I tell everything to first. Thirty three days of waking up without him in the bed with me, and having to remember all over again that he's gone.
There are times when it's so hard, I almost can't breathe. When the Impertinent One had gone on to the Texas State website to make sure they printed her name correctly, and discovered that she was graduating summa cum laude, she screamed, I screamed, we squeed and wibbled, and I told her how proud of her I am. Then I turned to say something to THO... and remembered. Oh... that's right. He's gone.
I miss him so very, very much.
